


Violation

by Doctor_Discord



Series: The Ego Manor [129]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Murder, Murder Husbands, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Rape/Non-con Elements, showering together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-16 08:43:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21505096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord
Summary: Wilford has an interview go a little stray, and decides to soothe his nerves in a nearby bar. Unfortunately, the experience is anythingbutsoothing.
Relationships: Darkiplier/Wilford Warfstache
Series: The Ego Manor [129]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1166384
Comments: 27
Kudos: 235





	Violation

**Author's Note:**

> * W A R N I N G *
> 
> Please look at the tags.

Wilford sat at a bar, slowly sipping on a martini in a half-hearted attempt to soothe his nerves. His latest interview had been…. _grueling_ , to say the least. The woman he’d brought in was not exactly the most cooperative, and about halfway through the interview, she’d revealed that she was a reporter herself, sent to discover why so many people never came out of his studio. She’d been promptly kicked out, but Wilford was still… _rattled_.

He sighed, downing his martini and ordering another. After this, he’d go home. Maybe he could convince Dark to take a break, and then Wilford could lay in his husband’s lap for a while and recharge. That sounded nice…

He started a bit when someone slid clumsily onto the seat next to him. It was a young girl, looking to be in her early twenties, and absolutely _hammered_ ; Wilford couldn’t help but chuckle as she giggled drunkenly, her forehead pressed to the bar. “Hello. And who might you be?”

The girl lifted her head, beaming brightly, and Wilford laughed when she gasped, her words slurring. “Hey! You’re that famous reporter guy!”

Wil chuckled again, turning to face her better with one leg thrown over the other, the corner of his lips quirking up in amusement. He tilted his head, his usual twinkle beginning to spark in his eyes. “Indeed I am.”

The girl giggled again, looking over her shoulder at a group of other women who were obviously her friends, going by the whispering and the staring at the both of them. She leaned in closer, practically falling into his lap and her hands a bit _too_ wandering as she whispered harshly, “My friends dared me to kiss you.”

Instantly, Wilford’s expression dropped, and he turned back to the bar, sipping at his martini (though one of her hands remained on his thigh, making his stomach crawl into his throat a little). “You won’t have any luck, I’m afraid. I’m married.”

He held up his hand so she could see his ring, and she gasped again, her hand slipping from his thigh a little. “Oh! I’m sorry, we…didn’t know you were married.”

Wilford smiled, rubbing his ring with his thumb and gazing down at it fondly. “It’s quite alright. It wasn’t in the news or anything. We kept it on the down-low, a ‘family and close friends’ only sort of thing. My husband’s not a big fan of the public eye, no matter how good at politics he is.”

Something in the girl’s eyes changed, and she pulled back, no longer touching him. “I didn’t know you were gay.”

Wilford frowned, not at all a fan of this sudden change in demeanor, and growing gradually more uncomfortable. He shifted in place, glancing at her from the corner of his eye as he lifted his martini. “…Pansexual, actually.”

She pulled a face, sticking her tongue out, and Wilford tried his hardest not to scowl. “Well that’s not like – a _real_ sexuality, and I don’t wanna lose this bet.”

Offence crashed over him, but before Wilford could respond, she was grabbing his face and kissing him forcefully. The kiss was sloppy (she was still _very_ drunk), but her grip was strong, and Wilford flailed, desperately trying to pull her hands from his face. He didn’t want to _hurt_ her, though; she was young and drunk and probably didn’t have a full grasp on what she was doing, and his reluctance to use his full strength or magic led to the kiss lasting _far_ longer than it should have (not that it should have happened _at all_ ). Something _cold_ pooled in Wilford’s stomach, something that made him feel _sick_ , and it just grew _worse_ with every second that ticked by.

When the girl finally pulled back, she practically fell off the bar stool, laughing and punching her fists into the air, spinning to face her friends as they cheered. Wilford just blinked, unable to move with wide eyes and breathing hard. He swallowed harshly, turning back to the bar, and when he lifted his martini his hand was shaking. He downed his drink, twirled a finger to magic some money onto the bar, and then he was gone.

Even though his poof back to the manor took place in the blink of an eye, it might as well have lasted an eternity, and by the time he arrived in Dark’s office he was shaking and sobbing, his hands fisted tight in his hair. He saw Dark jump through blurry, tear-filled vision, and the next thing he knew Dark’s arms were wrapping around him, pulling him into a tight hug. “What is it, Wil, what’s wrong?”

Wilford just shook his head, legs crumpling, and Dark guided him down so they were both kneeling on the floor. He fisted his hands in Dark’s suit, unable to get the words out as he shook in Dark’s arms. He relaxed a little when he felt Dark’s hand tangle in the hair on the back of his head, almost petting him with his other arm wrapped tightly around Wilford’s body.

He tensed up again when he felt Dark’s lips brush his forehead, but Dark was quick to soothe him, fingers splaying out on the back of his head and mumbling soft things into his ear. “Shh…it’s okay, Wil. Just calm down, breathe deeply now.”

Wilford tried to mimic Dark, but then the feeling of that girl’s lips on his and her hand on his thigh washed over him, and with it a fresh wave of sobs. His stomach turned almost painfully, his heart in his throat, and in a desperate attempt to communicate he reached out with his aura, tangling it with Dark’s before wrapping it around his husband’s head, feeding him a replay on fast-forward of what had happened.

Dark’s grip on him tightened, pulling him closer. “Oh Wil…I’m so sorry…” He could _feel_ Dark’s fury in the way his aura whipped around them both, in the way his ringing shifted pitch, but his tone didn’t change when he spoke, still soft and soothing and _adoring_. “It’ll be alright, Wil. I promise.” Dark pulled back, his face still blurry with Wilford’s tears, but he could still see Dark’s soft smile. His hand left the back of Wilford’s head in favor of brushing Wilford’s hair from his eyes. “Why don’t you take a hot shower, love? I’ll join you soon.”

Wilford nodded, swallowing hard. He reached one shaking, hesitant hand to cup Dark’s cheek, running his thumb over Dark’s lips as Dark closed his eyes and leaned into his touch. His eyes briefly flicked to way his rose-gold wedding band stood out brilliantly against Dark’s monochrome cheek, and he swallowed again. “Can –” His voice cracked, his thumb pausing over Dark’s lips. “C-can I…?”

Dark just barely opened his eyes – now red and blue respectively – and he smiled, nodding once. Wilford hesitated for another brief moment before his hand slid to the back of Dark’s head and he was pulling him forward, gently bringing their lips together.

The second their lips touched, Wilford sagged, pressing back harder and desperately trying to wash away the taste of cheap beer and cherry lipstick, replacing it with the intoxicating taste of ozone and spearmint that was so very _Dark_ it brought more tears to his eyes. At some point, Dark ended up lying on his back, Wilford draped over top of him with his hands on Wilford’s waist and Wilford holding his face in both hands.

Wilford pulled back, shaking worse than before and pressing his forehead to Dark’s, eyes squeezed shut. He could feel Dark’s thumbs working soothing circles into his hip, tears trailing endlessly down his face and splashing onto Dark’s. Dark tilted his head in a way that allowed for his noses to brush together. “Go relax, Wil. I promise you’ll feel better. And I promise, I’ll be with you soon. I just…want to take care of something.”

Wilford managed a tiny laugh, shifting to press a lingering kiss to the corner of Dark’s mouth. “Try not to get too much blood on your suit, love.”

Dark chuckled, turning his head to claim his lips in another proper kiss. “Deal.”

Wilford sighed, and when he opened his eyes again he was in their bathroom in Dark’s room. Adjusting the water to as hot as he could stand it, he stripped, carelessly tossing his clothes into the corner, before stepping into the near scalding shower. He just let the water wash over him, soaking into his skin and flushing it red. He had no idea how long he just stood there, lost in thought and finally gaining his tears under control, but at some point another presence appeared behind him, and then Dark’s arms were wrapping around his waist and his chin resting on Wilford’s shoulder. “…Feeling better, my love?”

Wilford nodded, turning around in Dark’s arms and tapping him on the nose, giggling when Dark’s face scrunched up in anticipation for it. He gasped, eyes narrowing. “Dark! You’ve got blood in your hair!”

Dark glanced up in an impossible attempt to see the top of his head, and then Wilford was grabbing his own shampoo and pouring it directly onto Dark’s head. Dark jumped, hands flailing as Wilford rubbed it in, spluttering and trying the bat his hands away. “ _Ack!_ Wil! I have no desire to smell like cotton candy for a month, _stop!_ ”

Wilford scoffed. “Oh come on Darky! It’s not _that_ bad!” He continued to massage Dark’s head, giggling when Dark pouted and dropped his hands, resigning himself to his fate as the pink bubbles quickly overtook his hair. “There we go!”

Dark’s pout deepened, closing one eyes as the soap dripped down his hair and onto his face. “You are the _worst_ , Wil.”

Wilford snorted. “No I’m not! You love me!”

“I’ll only admit to that if you let me wash the permanent gun powder smell off _you_.”

“Fine…”

**Author's Note:**

>  _Oof_ I'm sorry.  
> Ready to hate me more though?  
>  _Ready for another Silver-centric story?_
> 
> Tumblr: doctordiscord123.tumblr.com


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